After honoring all the Brahmins with a splendid array of foods, the host himself partakes only of simple fare—unsalted and without spices—showing humility and restraint. When the meal is done, he takes leave, and, accompanied by his sons and wives, follows the departing Brahmins for eight respectful steps on foot. In this act of reverence, he prays that Keshava, Lord of the gods and destroyer of suffering, may be pleased. He recalls the profound unity of the divine: Vishnu dwells in the heart of Shiva, and Shiva in the heart of Vishnu; there is no distinction between them. May this realization bring him well-being and long life. Having spoken thus, the wise householder distributes gifts—pots, cows, bedding, and garments—to all the Brahmins. If there are not enough beds for everyone, he ensures at least one well-prepared bed, complete with all its furnishings, is given to the twice-born. To fill the day with auspiciousness, he recites ancient histories and sacred tales, for it is said that whoever desires prosperity should spend the day thus. Therefore, Bhimasena, rely on virtue and cast away envy; perform this vow as I have lovingly described. This rite, which you have accomplished, will bear your name—it shall be known as Bhima Dvadashi. Auspicious and a destroyer of all sins, it was once called Kalyanini in ancient times. O mighty one, in this present age—when the Lord has taken the form of the Boar—you shall be the originator of this vow. Even one who merely remembers or praises it is freed from all sins by the grace of the Lord of gods. Know that Urvashi, foremost among the Apsarasas, who in previous births was a courtesan and took interest in the Abhira maidens, now dwells in the highest heaven. Whether born in a merchant’s family, as the daughter of Puloma, or as the wife of Puruhuta, she remained an attendant; now, she is my beloved Satyabhama. On this auspicious day, after bathing, one attains the radiant circle that embodies the Vedas, as the sun—resplendent with a thousand rays—showers forth a thousand streams of light. This very rite was performed by the Vasus led by Mahendra, and even by the enemies of the gods; yet its benefits cannot be fully described, even with a million tongues. The son of the lord of the Yadus will proclaim this vow as the destroyer of the impurity of the Kali age, its merit boundless. Even those whose ancestors have fallen to hell can be liberated by its performance. Whoever hears or recites this sin-destroying vow with devotion and a wish to benefit others, O King, attains all their desired aims and the status of the Four-Faced Brahma in this very life. Once, there was a sacred day called Kalyāṇinī—the twelfth lunar day in the month of Māgha—worthy of worship. It was observed by the son of Pāṇḍu and, beginning with Bhīma, will be performed in the future, yielding endless merit. At this point, a question is asked: "O Lord, I have heard in the Purāṇas about the origin of the social classes and stages of life, and the conclusions of the Dharmaśāstras regarding good conduct. But please tell me, in truth, about the proper conduct of merchant women." In that very age, O Brahman, there will be sixteen thousand wives of Vāsudeva. With them, in the season of spring, amidst gatherings of cuckoos and bees, on the blossoming banks of lakes adorned with lotuses swaying in the wind, the illustrious, deer-eyed Lord—his hair garlanded with jasmine—will delight in their company, in joyous gatherings filled with abundant drinking and the devotion of those women. Sāmba, conqueror of enemy cities, will appear along the path, radiant as Kāmadeva himself, adorned with all ornaments. The women, gazing at him with longing and their hearts inflamed by desire, will be overcome by the arrows of love. Witnessing this, the Lord of the universe, perceiving all with the eye of knowledge, will speak a curse: “Because of this act, born of greed and desire, in my absence, thieves will carry you all away.” Later, when the Lord bearing the Śārṅga bow is propitiated, he will address the afflicted women: the infinite-souled one, dear to the Brahmins, will instruct those who have become slaves and have been rescued from the ocean, teaching them a vow for their future welfare. “The sage Dālbhya will declare to you the vow; that alone will suffice for your deliverance, even in servitude.” Having spoken thus and embraced them, the Lord of Dvāravatī departs. Time passes. When the burden of the earth has been lifted, after the Mausala destruction and Keśava’s ascent to heaven, the Yadu clan is destroyed, all are conquered by thieves, and Arjuna is deprived of power. The wives of Kṛṣṇa are carried off, made slaves, and taken to the ocean. While they remain there, afflicted by misfortune, the great ascetic Dālbhya—endowed with yogic power—arrives. The women honor him, offering water for his feet, bowing repeatedly, their eyes brimming with tears as they lament. They remember their former joys, their divine garlands and ointments, and above all, their husband—the Lord of the worlds, infinite and unconquered. Standing before the sage, they question him about the divine city, its many jeweled houses, the residents of Dvārakā, and the godlike young men. They plead, “O Lord, we have all been forcibly exploited by bandits and cast down from our own duties; in this situation, be our refuge. You were formerly instructed by wise Keśava; why, having come into union with the Lord, have we now attained the state of courtesans? O possessor of austerities, tell us the duty even of courtesans.” Dālbhya and Caikitāyana then reveal the reason: “Once, while you were sporting in the waters of Lake Mānasa, Nārada approached. All of you, daughters of the fire-god and formerly Apsarases, out of pride, did not pay him respect. Instead, you questioned that knower of yoga: ‘How can Nārāyaṇa become our husband? Instruct us.’ Because of this, you received both a boon and a curse: by granting a double bed during the months of Madhu and Mādhava, and by offering golden vessels on the twelfth day of the bright fortnight, Nārāyaṇa would become your husband in another birth. “But, because you did not bow to me and questioned me out of envy for my beauty and fortune, you were destined to be quickly separated, all carried off by thieves, and to attain the state of courtesans.” Thus, the tale unfolds—a tapestry of devotion, consequence, and redemption woven through the ages, as the divine play of the Lord and his devotees continues, ever mysterious and profound.